


37-year-old virgin

by War_Disnei



Series: Obitine [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Time, Forbidden Love, Foreplay, From prudish to uninhibited, Hiding in Plain Sight, Jedi Code, Jedi Temple, Jedi dirty secrets, Making Love, Making Out, Mandalore, Obi-Wan no longer gives a damn, Obitine, Passion, Romance, Scandal, Scandalore, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Sexting, Shameless Smut, no regrets, sassy teenagers, strong emotions, urge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/War_Disnei/pseuds/War_Disnei
Summary: The Galaxy towards the end of the Clone Wars is a dark and repugnant pit of many a sorrowsThe war has transformed Obi-Wan.Change is inevitable, the Jedi knows that.What he doesn't know (or perhaps what he refuses to acknowledge) is that he wants this change to happen as much as he needs it.





	37-year-old virgin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The seed of desire is planted.
> 
> Quite painlessly at that:
> 
> war has numbed Kenobi's normally tormented conscience.

_Sundari fortress, Mandalore  
_

 

The Duchess of Mandalore and her confidant - a Jedi Master whose discreet visits had become somewhat of a constant over the past year - were strolling alongside the crenellated outdoors passage of the Sundari Royal Guard fortress. As dusk approached, it became apparent that they were alone.

 

As outlandish and unbecoming as it could've looked to the majority of Mandalorians to see their Duchess fraternizing with a _Jedi_ of all people, and a General at that, such circumstance wasn't a rare one.

In fact, Kenobi had taken to rushing to Kryze's side whenever he felt she would need him, as soon as he could carve out as little as a few hours from his ceaseless, burdensome duty.

The Duchess had practically no one she could share her emotional baggage with, but she was the kind of person who would rather face execution than _ask for help._ Obi-Wan had spontaneously and gradually come to fill that void in her life, with no imposition. Never transcending its platonic connotations, his relationship with the Duchess had nonetheless bloomed. Strangely, though, Kenobi had never felt he ought to morally justify those visits he paid her to his conscience. The more the war raged, the weaker his defensive wards became. Faced with the horrors of death and sufferance he daily put up with, his regrets had faded, his doubts had backtracked with him barely noticing.

But there was more. The thrill and liberation such subtle rebellion provided was the firewood Obi-Wan's flame fed on. Obi-Wan rejected the war and a downward spiraling political agenda every time he left to meet with Satine. He was disciplined, impeccable, punctual in front of the Council and Senate, as usual. But, behind closed doors, he reveled in the quietly wild discovery that he could still decide for himself, as long as his private life was concerned. Having experienced the devastating effects of conflict firsthand, from a position of great responsibility, was something that made the Duchess relatable. Both had come to conceive the other as a refuge. Months and months of transformative, secret confessions in the strictest of confidence with a highly divisive war as background are not something one can expect to emerge unscathed from, nor to easily forget.

 

That day, like any other day, Kenobi was tormented by the problems he'd briefly left elsewhere in the galaxy. His worries for Anakin paled in comparison to what he feared about Maul and Savage, but he cast his own preoccupations aside, sensing Satine on edge.

"You're worried" it wasn't a question.

The regally dressed woman stopped walking, turning to look at her visitor in the eye.

"Aren't you?" was her answer.

Obi-Wan Kenobi took a deep breath before replying:

"Yes. But at least  _I_ am not denying it"

This statement earned him a bitter laugh from her part.

"You, Obi-Wan? Being transparent about your  _feelings?"_

"You can laugh all you want, Duchess. Behind your mask of superior mockery, I am pretty sure the galaxy hasn't seen too many of your true colors, either"

He immediately regretted having said that, thinking he'd been a tad too straightforward, but if his words had scraped her, she didn't show it. She was stony, and she stopped walking, turning to face him.

"I am sorry. I..."

"No, _you are right"_ Satine pointedly remarked, starting to walk forward, towards him.

"Tell me, Obi-Wan, do you think the galaxy would benefit from seeing more of my true colors, more often?" she arched an eyebrow in all seriousness. There was a dark, passionate hunger to her that flooded the Jedi's senses.

Obi-Wan felt weak to the knees, all of a sudden.

"I don't know if the galaxy would. This is too large of a question for too little of a man. But...perhaps if...Your Highness would like to test the idea with someone who proves to be _transparent enough_ so as to let every single shade of Your Highness' colors shine through...then maybe..."

As this eccentric conversation went on, Obi-Wan realized how dangerously close they had subconsciously moved. He had practically trapped her against the brick, crenellated wall, his torso brushing against hers. She appeared on edge, but willing, her cheeks flushed.

_"What are you doing..."_ Obi-Wan briefly wondered. But what would have to happen would happen, it was inevitable now. The universe was constatly in motion, and the pair of them had postponed rolling along its will for too long of a time. Besides, it wasn't like they were completely lucid.

He thought about all the troubles that awaited him upon returning on Coruscant. He thought about the ever-rising war death toll, the famines and the tragedies and the sheer corruption plaguing the galaxy. All in spite of the Jedi's impeccable moral conduct. With this perspective in mind, how...could...letting go...matter...now.

They didn't even notice when they started kissing. Their bodies were pressed together, their hands touching the other in a frenzy. It was inebriating, totalizing, addictive. How could they ever let go?

Obi-Wan lost himself in her taste, taking in everything he could. It was like he'd found a different, parallel dimension after years of ceaselessly roaming the universe. It felt revolutionary, yet absurdly natural. And, most of all, they were actually _facing_ it for real, and not in dreams, this time. But, would it matter?

The sound of steps abruptly put an end to their physical union. Obi-Wan motioned to leave, to disappear and head back to his Jedi fighter.

But Satine, despite the risk - excited by it, even - stopped him by wrapping an arm around his waist.

He blushed, reality hitting him hard: he was a chaste, almost liberated but inexperienced man.

" _Satine_ , they will discover us..."

"Wouldn't you want more?" her hot voice tickled his ear, as she racily ran the risk.

What a temptress.

_Would he? Would he really want to? In his dreams, at the moment, there were few things he wanted as much as that. But would he ever admit it?_

The pristine monk in him was tempted to run away. But then again, exactly because he was a pristine monk he'd come to realize that there would be nothing more beautiful and harmonic and natural than giving in to their real, intense, genuine, long-repressed feelings. Screw useless social constructions. The ugliness of war was real, so was the beauty of what he and the Duchess had.

"Wouldn't you have me?" Obi-Wan tried to prevent his voice from trembling with all his might, to no avail.

Satine didn't hesitate communicating him her answer, grabbing his crotch somewhat aggressively. She did that because she knew she could, at last. He gasped, twisting and bending his head backwards, exposing the tempting curve of his neck. Oh, how she loved seeing him like that.

"Oh, how you like to dramatize your reaction,  as if you're surprised..."

"But _I am_. You never cease surprising me. I would be...honored if you...gave me just one _chance_ of _surprising you_ , as well"

Satine held her breath, as he felt a wave of warm anticipation take over him.

The sound of steps was approaching, it was just a matter of seconds before their privacy would be disrupted.

"Satine, I mean it" he said before taking a leap to the lower level.

She motioned to kiss him, pressing her lips against his, making him believe like she would kiss deeper, but retracting at the last moment.

"Surprise me, then" she whispered.

Last thing he saw before leaping downwards was her confident, radiant smirk.

 

 


End file.
